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Thoughts in Verse and Prose 
Walter Bissinger 



THE NET RECEIPTS FROM THE SALE OF THIS 
LIMITED EDITION (SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY 
COPIES, OF WHICH THIS IS NUMBER /*X *J ,) 
WILL BE GIVEN TO THE IROQUOIS MEMORIAL 
ASSOCIATION FUND 



Thoughts 
In Verse and Prose 

Walter Bissinger 



Chicago 

Toby Rubovits 

1904 



Contents 

Preface 

Biography I 

Walter 7 

The Snow 11 

The Day of Life 12 

Nature 15 

The Sun 16 

Sunrise 17 

Sunset 18 

Twilight 19 

The Moon 20 

The Stars 21 

Night 22 

The Return of Spring 23 

Summer 24 

Autumn 25 

Winter 26 

To a Wild Rose 31 

Fallen Leaves 33 

To a Water Lily 34 

The Elm and the Rose 35 

In Meadows Green 37 

The Brooklet in the Wood 38 

The Battle of the Waves 39 



The River's Destination 41 

The Wisconsin River 42 

Farewell to Tower Hill 43 

Night in the City 44 

The Wind 45 

Address to Burns 46 

Have a Thought 47 

Thanksgiving Day 48 

Letter to a Boy Friend 49 

A Review of "Ode to the West Wind," 

by Shelley 51 

A Review of "Hymn Before Sunrise in the Vale 

of Chamouni" 53 

A Review of "Break, Break, Break," 

by Tennyson 54 

A Review of "Some Time," by Eugene Field . 55 
A Review of "Lives of the Hunted," by Ernest 

Thompson Seton . . 56 

Spring .60 

The Picture of the "Glass Blower" .... 61 

Thoughts at a Wedding 62 

Patriotism — Essay 63 

Valedictory Address 66 

Theseus — A Play 69 

The Spring at Eagle Rock 77 




Preface 

MONG the many young lives that 
were swept to their premature end 
by the cruel flames in the Iroquois 
Theatre catastrophe, was also that of 
Walter Bissinger. 

In his death his nearest of kin lost 
a lovable member of the home circle, and the 
world a singer of rare qualities. 

The promise of a larger fame among the 
greater bards, whose songs have cheered pil- 
griming mankind on the path of upward tending, 
was richly foreshadowed in the notes which from 
early childhood his tender fingers drew from the 
lyre of his love-filled heart. 

Those who knew him best, his parents and 
teachers, have thought it wise to collect the scat- 
tered leaves of Walter's songs, and by publishing 
them in permanent form erect a fitting monu- 
ment to the memory of the young poet. 

Though the deeper experience which life alone 
brings is lacking in these stanzas, they thrill with 
a genuine sympathy with the moods of the sky 
and the sea, the mountain and the mead. 

As might be expected in one so young, the 
dominant is lyrical, vibrating with the impres- 
sions made upon his soul by the winds and waves. 
Whatever may be the crudities of phraseology or 



meter, these lines show spontaneity of sentiment. 
They are not the painful outcome of studied 
efforts, but the glad outburst of a candid heart 
rejoicing in the beauties filling garden and heath. 

In some of these songs the uncertain and in- 
definite hesitancy of youth is absent, and they 
might with ease pass for the productions of a 
mature mind. Others again reveal the faltering 
grasp of the child. But as they are of unequal 
quality, they possess a charm reflective of the 
rare beauty of the young songster's pure soul. 

May they speak the softening message of hope 
to the saddened friends upon whom the frightful 
hour of his death has laid so heavy a burden. 
The soul that sang them is not silent. 

Emil G. Hirsch. 

Chicago, February 18, ipo$. 



Biography 



Biography 



Dear Mamma, I wish you a birthday bright, 

A birthday full of cheer, 
And I'll try to be good 
And do what is right, 

And congratulate you, my dear. 

' I V HIS little rhyme from the pen of an eight- 
■*- year-old was attached to a nosegay and 
given by Walter to his mother on her birthday 
in 1897. 

From babyhood Walter was the most win- 
some, most loving, most considerate of laddies. 
His big brown eyes looked wonderingly at the 
loving faces all about him, never knowing that 
the love and friendliness he saw there were but 
the reflections of his own dear loving heart. 

Walter Bissinger was born in Chicago, Oc- 
tober 15th, 1 888. He was trained in the public 
schools from the kindergarten up through the 
eighth grade, after which he attended the Mor- 
gan Park Academy, Illinois, one year, and then 
went to the Howe Military School at Lima, 
Indiana, where he was in attendance at the time 
of his death, which he met in the Iroquois The- 
atre disaster, December 30th, 1903. 

Walter was not a robust boy, and so during 
his school life he lost two years of work, yet he 

[3] 



little needed special effort in school work, for he 
was a child apart, who learned at nature's knee 
of the great Deauties and wonders of the uni- 
verse. He marvelled at the glory and the beauty 
of the sun, the stars, the night. He gloried in 
the beauty of the violet, the lily and the rose. 
His was a rare poet soul, and he sang the sweet 
thoughts of his heart out to the world, to those 
about him, adding beauty and fragrance and love 
where'er he was, sending forth most of his lyrics 
between the ages of eleven and fourteen. 

The greatest love was lavished upon him by 
his classmates, who were never willing to have 
him disciplined for whispering or tardiness. 
They would have suffered willingly for him and 
borne all his troubles gladly. 

He had a keen sense of humor, and when- 
ever he expressed his appreciation of fun the 
children laughed with him, so cheerily and hap- 
pily and lovingly, it was as if they said with one 
voice, "We love you, Walter, we love you, 
Walter." 

He was ever a close appreciative observer of 
Nature's moods. In a letter to his mother, dur- 
ing one of his summer vacations, he writes : 
" The distant verdure clad hills form a beautiful 
background to the broad Wisconsin River, which 
winds gracefully in and out among many little 
islands ;" and in the same letter he speaks in de- 
tail of the varied flowers and birds he has seen 
in this one stroll. He adds, with gentle humor: 
"There are also some very fierce and dangerous 

[4] 



wild animals here, commonly known as rabbits 
and squirrels." 

His sister wrote to his mother: "I never knew 
how sweet Walter was until his cat was hurt one 
day. He came up and told me about it, with his 
brown eyes rilled with tears. He was much agi- 
tated, and bathed the kitten and cared for it 
tenderly until it died." 

In another letter he writes humorously to his 
mother as "Supreme Lord of the Dishwashing, 
Imperial Ruler of the Letter Writing, and Royal 
Shah of the Seed Planting." 

During a summer vacation at Tower Hill he 
edited a newspaper, which was so much sought 
after by the old and young that they were will- 
ing to pay any price for the interesting and clever 
budget, but Walter charged one cent per reader 
most impartially. 

Walter loved fun and merriment and sun- 
shine, but he was most deeply touched by the 
sorrow of others. 

He wrote these gentle loving thoughts to his 
boy cousin, Jack Pottlitzer, who lost his mother 
in 1903. (Jack also perished in the Iroquois 
disaster.) 

"I know there is no consolation for the loss 
of so good and dear a friend as a mother, and I 
presume that things seem lonesome and dreary 
to you now. 

"Everyone has his griefs and sorrows, and 
though yours is one of the greatest, I hope you 
will have the patience and courage to bear it 

[5] 



bravely, and so be a comfort to your father. 
1 hope that you will so let your dear mother live 
in your thought and your love and your deed, 
that you may grow up to manhood cheerfully 
and earnestly." 

As we know of the beauty and sweetness of 
this young life that spent so brief, but so fra- 
grant and rich a period here on earth, we cannot 
but realize that he walked and talked with God ; 
that he, a child of sunshine, was a chosen one. 
He wrought mightily for gentle living and har- 
mony, and when he died he was encircled by 
loving arms, and received into the hereafter with 
welcome. Thou noblest, truest, gentlest and best 
of children ! 

Harriette Taylor Treadwell* 

Chicago, Feb. 23, ipo^. 



*His English Teacher at the Forrestville School. 



[6] 



Walter 

Quietly pulsed, the friend of growing things, 
Companioned by the loveliness of earth 
He walked, and was not lonely. The still 

night, 
The subtle influence of the wind and 

flowers 
And star gleam and stirring of the 

Spring, 
The fall of silver waters in the sun, 
Wrought in his blood a quickening and 

a peace. 
The mystic Mother fed him with her dews 
And breathed upon him — breath of 

the holy God 
That stirs the burgeoning of the poet's 

soul. 
His eyes were filled with brimming 

sweet of dreams. 
All high thoughts came to minister 

gentle love, 
Fair courtliness and the desire of truth. 
We live but dully through the years, 

but he 
With vivid heart, intensely his small 

cup 
Of exquisite life poured forth, and 

passed to rest. 

Florence Kiper. 
Chicago, February 20, igo/f.. 

[7] 



Thoughts in Verse and Prose 



The Snow 

Little white diamonds 
Falling from the sky, 

Little white diamonds 
Coming from so high. 

Little white diamonds 
Lying on the ground, 

Little white diamonds 
Where were you found ? 

We came from a cloud 

Up so very high, 
Little white diamonds 

Falling from the sky. 



Written at the age of seven. 



[»] 



The Day of Life 

Dawn 
I 

When the glorious Aurora 

Ushers in the busy day, 
She commands all gloomy darkness 

From the earth to go away. 

II 

So, in our youth, Joy commandeth, 
"Cares and Sorrows, scatter far;" 

Pleasure, then, supremely reigneth 
And thinks but of the things that are. 

Ill 

So a glorious preparation 

For our lifetime is begun ; 
Till we rise to graver duties, 

Less important deeds are done. 

Morning 

IV 
Then as the sunbeam's glow grows brighter, 

Bringing hope and higher thought 
To the growing soul of childhood, 

Fortune and fame are bravely sought. 



[12] 



V 

Thus, as in the growing morning 

When Fortune's rude ladder we do climb, 
The glorious life-light ever brighter 

Groweth in the soul of Time. 

VI 
Manhood's far-reaching aspirations 

Lead man on unto the height 
Where he can stop and restive, thinking, 

Say to his soul, " I have done aright." 

Noon 

VII 

Then, when he has climbed the ladder 

Unto good or evil haunts, 
If good, let not false pride o'ertake him, 

Lest he forget his fellow's wants. 

VIII 
This is the sun when he is brightest; 

He opens wide his sunny portals, 
And gives his welcome, warming sunbeams 

To the grateful earthly mortals. 

Afternoon 
IX 

Then, as Life's noon slowly darkens, 
We think of Rest, that gracious being ; 

After our busy lifetime struggle, 
We slowly find our time is fleeing. 

.[13] 



X 

We recollect our childhood's pleasure, 
And all the deeds of our brave youth, 

Manhood's ambitions and the treasure 
We found at last in love and truth. 

Evening 

XI 

As Life's evening comes upon us, 

We retire to home and rest; 
Then, our very greatest wish is, 

"May our old age with peace be blest.' 

XII 

As the sun is slowly sinking, 
'Neath the horizon of our life, 

Death slowly comes and gently leads us 
Unto peace from the world's strife. 



[14] 



Nature 

Nature shows to man in many ways 

How she combineth gentleness and might; 

Beside the mighty mountain peak, she lays 
The peaceful river; and all through the night, 

The moon doth shed her soft and gentle rays 
Upon the grand, the awe-inspiring height. 



[*5] 



The Sun 

O, glory bright, thou great celestial sphere, 

Fair Nature's clock art thou, the king of day ; 

You shed your winged light, grand heav'nly ray, 

Till night with all her fairy train, is here ; 

Inspiring to the savage, awful fear, 

You grace with smiles the pearl of Nature, may 

You waken all the buds and flowers gay 

Until they rest upon a leafy bier. 

The greatest virtue ever is thy crown, 

Grand, splendrous and mystic as thou art; 

O, wondrous orb of glory ever true 

To Man and Nature, in a leafy gown 

You robe the trees, and greet the flower's heart 

With rays of splendor from calm heaven's blue. 



[16] 



Sunrise 
I 

'Tis night's calm solitude ; the moon of pearl, 
Like some celestial, lovely shepherd girl, 
Doth watch fore'er her flock of golden spheres, — 
God's emblem of his glory through the years. 

II 

When lo! from out the east, a mellow ray 
Blends with the quiet gloom of night's calm sway, 
Until Aurora, beautiful and fair, 
The passage for Apollo doth prepare. 

Ill 

The stars to insignificance do fade 
When mighty Phoebus in a gown arrayed, 
That sheds its wondrous radiance far and wide, 
Upon his pathway glorious doth ride. 

IV 

In chariot of crimson and of gold, 

Drawn by his steeds so fiery and bold, 

The king of day doth greet with splendrous pow'r, 

The heart of man, of bird and beast and flow'r. 

V 
Thus sunrise is to us; but in the vast 
And boundless universe e'er unsurpassed, 
It is as naught, but so God's love and might, 
That he doth give this joy to human sight. 

[17] 



Sunset 

When day doth fade to evening calm, 
Sublime and fair with graceful balm, 
A king doth lower 'neath the hills — 
The orb of day, 
In flaming chariot of fire, 
The splendor rising high and higher, 
Until the air with glory fills; 
A splendrous ray, 
'Bove the horizon flames and darts, 
Then day with beauteous sunlight parts, 
And its grand glory lives no more; 
"The king is dead," — 
Long live the queen of night so fair, 
With pearl adorning heaven's air, 
While we her beauty do adore, 
High overhead. 



[18] 



Twilight 



Blending with the day's bright colors, 
Harmony and slumber breathing, 

Comes the wondrous charm of evening, 
Pensiveness the soul is wreathing. 

In the western sky, the royal 
Sun beneath the hills is sinking, 

In his grand and splendrous chariot, 
While the mind is calmly thinking; 

Thinking of the myriad figures 
That are in the heavens glowing; 

Thinking of the forms and fancies 
That the radiance is showing; 

While the sun, with shades celestial, 
Through the fleecy clouds is gleaming, 

Tinting every airy vapor 

With a glow beyond all dreaming; 

Painting radiance transparent, 

Drawing shapes that know not number, 
Fairies of the gentle evening, 

Dreams of angels in their slumber. 



['9] 



The Moon 

Above the fleecy clouds, the crescent fair 
Seems smiling through a mist of tears, and where 
She sheds a radiance upon the skies, 
A mellow glow within the heaven lies; 
A shepherd maiden of celestial air, 
Her golden flock she guards with faithful care, 
And 'neath her gentle ray, the earth doth wear 
A calm and lovely smile when she doth rise 
Above the fleecy clouds. 

Her rays do penetrate the tiger's lair 
In the wild jungle, and the darkness there 
Is turned to mellow light that lulls the eyes 
No less the tiger's and its fierce allies 
Than evening fairies in their starry chair 

Above the fleecy clouds. 



[20] 



The Stars 

In heaven's azure dome, the stars of gold 
Like mighty warriors, glorious and bold, 
In mail magnificent do grace the night 
With crowns and halos of celestial light ; 
Resplendent armor clads them as of old, 
And gold majestic doth the stars enfold; 
Grand Sirius doth his ancient glory hold, 
While Mars is shining from his splendrous height 
In heaven's azure dome. 

And while our sphere has ever onward rolled, 
Inhabited by man from Arctic cold 
To tropic heat, the stars of golden white, 
Like warriors, shone in radiance and might, 
Of glorious and of resplendent mould, 

In heaven's azure dome. 



[21] 



Night 



I 

The calm and quiet night succeeds 

The busy, merry day; 
She brings the moon and shining stars 

That shed their mellow ray. 

II 

She lies above the fleecy clouds, 
And with a mystic sweep, 

She gradually the earth enshrouds 
In quietude and sleep. 

Ill 
And with the coming of the dawn, 

She slowly glides away; 
So when the quiet night is gone 

We welcome back the day. 



[22] 



The Return of Spring 
I 

When flowers of May, in bright array, 

Do raise their nodding heads, 
When azure skies delight the eyes 

And green the meadow spreads, 
We know at last, that Winter's blast 

Has given way to Spring, 
Who now doth call the flowers all 

And bids their sweet bells ring. 

II 
When a lulling breeze, o'er lands and seas, 

Doth wend its soothing way; 
When lovely flowers do grace Spring's bowers, 

And birds sing forth their lay; 
And when 'tis true that Heaven's blue 

Joy to our hearts doth bring, 
When Winter parts, with joyful hearts, 

We gayly welcome Spring. 



[23] 



Summer 

High in the forest trees 

Rocked by the gentle breeze, 
Birds are awaiting the season of mirth ; 

Singing so merrily, 

Sweetly and airily, 
Wishing for summer to rule o'er the earth. 

Summer when flowers fair 

Perfume the sunny air, 
And when the glorious, light-giving sun — 

Faithful and dutiful, 

Wakes flowers beautiful, 
Welcoming happily each lovely one. 

Summer, when Hurricane 
Raps on the window-pane, 

Lightning flashing his sword in the skies, 
Storm raging fearfully, 
Clouds weeping tearfully, 

Bursting to tears from their delicate eyes. 



[24] 



Autumn 

Gazing at the distant landscape, 
While the sun sinks low and lower 
'Neath the ruddy hills of Autumn — 
'Neath October's purple foliage — 
In the far-off, hazy distance, 
Flecked with shadow and with image 
Of the evening's lulling spirit, 
Gliding through the soul so gently, 
Bringing back the old-time mem'ries; 
Looking forward to the future, 
Looking to the time when Nature, 
In a gown of deepest mourning 
Weepeth for her leaves and flowers, 
Now so lovely and so glowing 
In their wondrous Autumn vestage, 
Decking forest, grove and city 
In a dress of red and yellow ; 
Oaks and elms in showy garments, 
In the solitary woodland, 
Where the moose and elk do wander, 
Mighty rulers of the forest ; 
Where the bear doth seek his cavern 
In the woods so still and lonely; 
Where the doe, a loving mother, 
With her eyes so large and tender, 
Leads her young one to the brookside, 
In the stillness of the evening, 
'Neath the bending boughs above her, 
Clothed in radiant tints of Autumn — 
All these thoughts my soul are filling, 
Gliding by in grand succession, 
Beautiful and solitary. 

[25] 



... 



Winter 

Dramatis Personam 

Winter 

Glacier \ 

Cold I Courtiers to Winter. 

Frost ) 

Cloud — A courtier, attendant upon Winter. 

Summer 

/ Courtiers or Ladies, attendant 

Sunshine V ' 

T i upon bummer. 

June ) r 

Scene I 

Scene — Court of Winter, an icy gorge. 
{Winter, Glacier, Cold and Frost, .) 

Winter — Ye courtiers of my realm, now list to 
me, 
And ponder on my words and give them thought : 
For I do now enact a royal law, 
Which is with all my lords and followers, 
My children and the subjects of my land, 
The bitter Frost and unrelenting Cold, 
To journey to the land of mortals once 
Each time that sphere, which humans call the world, 
Doth circle round the golden orb, the sun; 
And there to plunder and destroy the works 
Of Nature, all the flowers beautiful, 
And grasses green and leafy bough and bush; 
[26] 



To clad the rivers in a coat of ice, 

And fright the fair, melodious birds away; 

How many, verily, desire these things? 

Glacier, Cold, Frost — We all, our sovereign and 
most noble king. 

Cold- — And I shall help thee with thy mighty deeds; 
I'll shoot my barbed arrows swift and keen, 
That with one blow do overpow'r the leaves 
And flowers and the bushes fair and green, 
Which, stricken to the ground, do faint and die 
In pointed numbness, in their icy graves. 

Frost — O, pow'rful sovereign, my assistance, too, 
Shall heartily be given unto thee, 
For I'll go forth beneath the azure sky, 
The crescent and the stars o'erwatching me, 
And to the hush and quietness of night, 
I'll add a keen and chilly atmosphere, 
And gliding noiselessly toward the brook, 
I'll touch it with my finger icicles, 
And lo! the rippling waters short shall stop, 
Transformed to an icy coat of mail. 

Winter — It fills my heart with joy and happiness 
That all my courtiers shall so willingly 
Assist me in my deeds. And, Glacier, write 
Among the laws and statutes of my realm, 
Inscribed in scrolls of ice as strong as steel — 
As mighty and as irremovable — 
That law which I have said to you but now. 

Glacier — Indeed, great sovereign of this ice-bound 
land, 
Fore'er I'm at your service and command. 

I>7] 



Scene II 

Scene — A valley in winter. 
(Winter and Summer) 

Summer — O, Winter, Winter, cruel, pitiless, 
Have mercy on me and my children fair! 
O, Winter keen, how canst thou be so stern, 
That armed in a coat of icy mail, 
Thou slayest all my children beautiful? 
Ah, Winter, but abate thy furious wars, 
Have mercy on these fair and lovely flow'rs — 
Have pity, cruel, unrelenting king. 

Winter — The laws and all the statutes of my realm 
Are writ in bars of ice, and ne'er can be 
Revoked. 

Summer — O, Winter, Winter, art thou dumb 
To all entreaties from these lips of mine, 
Beseeching thee to end thy fearful war? 
O, Winter, art thou blind ; canst thou not see 
Thy awful carnage, 'mongst the flow'rs and leaves? 
O, Winter, — 

Winter — My laws are firm and ne'er can be revoked. 

Summer — But, cruel season, listen to my words — 
Have pity on me. 

Winter — Summer, thou hast moved 
Me to compassion, but as I have said, 
My laws are firm and ne'er can be revoked : 
Though I shall try to find some way to save 
Thy flowers and thy children beauteous. 

Summer — O, Winter, do, and I shall ever be 
Thy friend and not thy hating enemy ! 
[28] 



Scene III 

Scene — The court of Winter, an icy gorge. 
{Winter, Cold, Cloud and Frost.} 

Winter — My courtiers and my lords assembled 
here, 
List to my words: I lately Summer saw, 
So fair and lovely in her wondrous gown, 
Who sadly begged me, weeping piteously, 
To mercy have upon her buds and boughs 
And end my warfare. This I cannot do; 
So told her on the honor of my word 
That I would strive to save her children frail ; 
Can you devise a plan for such a thing? 

Cloud, Cold, Frost — We'll strive most faithfully 
to do our best 
And let our genius plan and shape the rest. 

Scene IV 

Scene — The court of Summer, a forest dell. 
{Summer, Grace, Sunshine and "June.) 

Summer — Fair maidens, in this happy forest dell, 
Gay though you are, I doubt if all is well ; 
For Winter, like a cruel warrior bold, 
Doth come each year with Frost and bitter Cold 
To slay my children, O ye nymphs so fair, 
And naught but strife and tumult fill the air. 

Grace — But, dearest ruler of this lovely place, 
We wish for naught to mar thy happy face 
And naught but smiling on thy lips be seen. 
Lo! Here comes one of grand and royal mien. 
{Enter Winter.} 
[29] 



Winter — I'm come to greet thy loveliness, the 
queen , 

Of flowers fair and leaves and grasses green; 
Cold, Frost and Cloud, my true and faithful lords 
Have planned a marvel that will spare the swords 
Of bitter Cold from all your children fair, 
The trees and flowers with their fragrance rare ; 
For when November's breezes softly blow, 
They lull to sleep the flowers, to and fro 
Their cradles softly rocking, to the tune 
Of iEolus' sweet song, the leaves be strewn 
Upon the ground, the swaying trees below, 
When I enfold them in a bed of snow, 
And give them gentle sleep and lovely dreams, 
While all about, the air as piercing seems 
As barbed arrows, with straight aim and true — 
And now, fair Summer, I bid thee adieu. 

{Exit) 

Summer — At last my joy is full, and naught remains 
To mar my pleasure, fill my heart with pains; 
And now to celebrate this joyous thing, 
Come, come, all ye happy nymphs, and sweetly sing! 



[3o] 



To a Wild Rose 

Dedicated to his English Teacher, Harriette Treadwell, 
of the Forrestville School, Chicago. 

I love thee, yes, I love thee, 

Thou Flower fair of June, 
Like the bright blue skies that delight the eyes — 

Like the pale and dainty moon. 

I love thee, yes, I love thee, 

For thy scents that fill the air 
Make this mortal strand like a fairy-land, 

While sweet odors are everywhere. 

I love thee, yes, I love thee, 

For thy beauty and thy grace; 
On the bushes green art thou ever seen 

With thy lovely fairy face. 

I love thee, yes, I love thee, 

While you nod in the gentle breeze 

Thou art queen fore'er of the flowers fair, 
'Neath the bowing courtier trees. 

I love thee, yes, I love thee 

With thy dainty crown of gold : 
In the clear ozone, is a bush thy throne, 

Till at last thy petals fold. 



[3i] 



I love thee, yes, I love thee, 
Though thy life be but a day, 

Like the nodding boughs above thee, 
Fair child of the June and May. 



[32] 



Fallen Leaves 
I 

The wild wind doth come from his home in the 
northland, 
When the leaves are arrayed in bright scarlet and 
gold; 
Half fiercely, half mildly, he now doth conduct them 
Unto the damp ground and their graves in the mould. 
So flying and dying 
With iEolus sighing, 
They made their journey to brown mother earth — 
As winter approaches, 
On airy wind-coaches, 
To their mausoleum they travel with mirth. 

II 

The wild wind doth come from his home in the 
northland, 
When boughs quiver leafless and meadows are bare; 
He bringeth a blanket of white for the drear fields 
And soon it is glistening everywhere. 

Swift sweeping, ne'er sleeping 
With iEolus heaping 
The snow into drifts 'neath the cold winter sun; 
Now iEolus sigheth, 
Half singeth, half cryeth, 
"The dead leaves have fallen for their work is done." 



[33] 



To a Water Lily 

Oh, gentle flower, with thine golden heart 

And edged with white, the color pure and true, 

In calm repose, you rest upon the blue 

Until at last, thy glory doth depart ; 

And though thou gloriest brightly whilst thou art, 

And you your splendid colors wear in lieu 

Of the sun's magnificence, alas, ah! you 

Surrender life soon aft thy splendor's start. 

Alas! 'tis true, thou much art like the race 

Of mortals, who in their bright, glorious prime, 

Can ne'er oppose inconstant, fickle Fate ; 

Though in his glory he bears proud a face, 

The inroad large, of man's worst foe, cruel Time, 

Prepareth him for Heaven's resplendent gate. 



[34] 



The Elm and the Rose 

Beneath a calm and stately elm, a rose 

Did spend her joyous life in this fair place — 

A peaceful dell where flowers did ope and close — 
And raised each nodding, fair and smiling face. 

This fairy elm did love the dainty flower, 

Who showed each day its fair and beauteous eye, 

To grace the grassy nook and leafy bower 
Where like a fairy princess she did lie. 

The loving elm did lay his shady leaves, 

Like a fair canopy, above her head, 
And she, with joy, his loving gift receives, 

When he the story of his love has said. 

The children came and played around the elm, 
And laughed and chattered, when in all their glee, 

They saw the princess of the fairy realm, 
Upon her bed of grass so fair and free. 

But one day comes; 'tis sad a tale to tell — 
Upon her wondrous bed, the flower fair 

Reclined and drooped her head — "She is not well" — 
Did murmur all the voices of the air. 

The breeze did woo her with his magic spell, 
The sun sent forth his ray to greet her eye — 

But it was useless, worse and worse she fell, 
Until one fair spring morning, she did die. 

[35] 



The lovely elm did grieve and mourn her death, 
He moaned and sighed and fretted in the breeze, 

Until one night, a fierce and stormy breath 
Does strike him, and to mother earth he flees. 

He falls beside his love among the leaves, 
So pale in death with one pink fairy blush; 

The friendly sun looks on and much he grieves 
That these fair two should sleep in death's calm 
hush. 

Th' eternal sun, to whom a thousand years 
Is but a day in heaven's e'erlasting time, 

From 'neath the east his rays of splendor rears, 
Till he ascends into the heaven's prime. 

He says, "Behold this incident of life, 
This simple, pretty story; it is small, 

But small things make our joy and make our strife, 
And small things make the world's harmonious all." 

A million suns do fill the heavens fair, 

A million trees do make the woods of mirth ; 

A million blossoms scent the crystal air, 

A thousand millions grown, do make the earth. 



[36] 



In Meadows Green 

In the busy, noisy city, 

Gaze I at the clouds above me 

Full of figures and of fancies ; 

Meadows are they of the vapor, 

With their misty grass and flowers, 

Bringing to me the remembrance 

Of the meadows green and verdant, 

Far from all the noise and clamor 

That are echoing through the city. 

Meadows, where the trees and blossoms 

In their sparkling dewy freshness, 

Grace the earth in pearls and diamonds; 

Where the joyous birds are singing 

Filled with ecstasy and beauty; 

Where the glorious sun departing 

Tints the leaves and flow'rs with radiance, 

While the zephyrs soft and gentle, 

Lull to slumber Nature's children ; 

Till the crescent fair and glowing 

And the stars in simple grandeur, 

Shed their ray upon the flowers, 

Watching o'er their lovely dreaming. 



[37] 



The Brooklet in the Wood 

In the forest solitary, 

Oak trees ancient in the glade 

Cast a shade 
O'er the brooklet, gay and merry, 

In its sparkling gown arrayed, 
Like a bright and laughing fairy 

Whose sweet beauty ne'er doth fade — 

Smiling maid — 
Rippling with her laughter airy, 

In her swift course never stayed. 



[38] 



The Battle of the Waves 
I 

'Tis night and the clouds are the heavens o'ercov'ring, 
While Boreas cruel, near Neptune is hov'ring; 
The sea-god o'ertaken, 
He bids him awaken 
His warriors mighty in splendrous array ; 
So roaring 

And soaring, 

Awakening, 
Forsaking 
The quiet of night, they prepare for the fray. 

II 

And donning their armor resplendent and flashing, 
On aqueous chargers that forward are dashing 
And tossing and prancing, 
The warriors are lancing 
With foam crested spears of the sea's shining steel, 
Are riding, 

And gliding, 

And dying, 
Defying 
Until they the lance of the enemy feel. 

Ill 

Above them the wonderful sword of the lightning 
Is piercing and flashing and gleaming and bright'ning ; 
The horrible thunder 
Doth rend them asunder, 

[39] 



Until when the terrible battle is o'er — 
Then crying, 

And' sighing, 

And groaning, 

And moaning, 
The west wind is chanting his dirge evermore. 



[40] 



The River's Destination 

I 

I come from the lofty mountains, 

I go to the roaring sea; 
Its waves and its mighty billows 

Are rest and home for me. 

II 
I flow down the peaceful valley, 

To the sea is where I go; 
I love its angry waters, 

And the winds that o'er it blow. 

Ill 
On! On! To the mighty ocean, 

On ! On ! To its waves that roll, 
I shall ever journey onward 

Till I reach the sea, my goal. 



[41] 



The Wisconsin River 

Past fertile fields and 

Meadows green, 
The broad Wisconsin 

Flows ; 
'Mid verdant islands 

It is seen, 
And past large hills 

It goes. 

By verdure clad and 

Beauteous hills, 
With current swift and 

Strong; 
And fed by many brooks 

And rills, 
It quickly glides along. 



[42] 



Farewell to Tower Hill 

[Tower Hill is a picturesque spot in Northern Wisconsin, where 
the Summer School of Rev. Jenkin Lloyd Jones, of Chicago, is 
located.] 

Ye verdant hills, ye flowing streams, 

Ye quiet woodland glades, 
Ye splendors of the sunset gleams, 

And evening's peaceful shades; 
Ye lovely flowers and dainty ferns 

Within your peaceful dell, 
For you my heart forever yearns — 

And I have loved you well — 
But with a longing heart must say, 

Dear Tower Hill, farewell. 

Farewell to the majestic rocks — 

The stately and the grand — 
Farewell unto the peaceful flocks 

In this green meadow-land; 
Farewell to birds that here, the air 

With their sweet music fill, 
Farewell to nature fresh and fair, 

In valley, height and rill; 
And I must bid good-bye, to-day, 

Farewell to Tower Hill. 



[43] 



Night in the City 
I 

The sun has set in a blaze of gold, 
And a spirit of silence and peaceful rest 
Into the city's heart hath rolled, 

With the gentle balm 

Of a lingering calm 
That makes the soul by the evening blest. 

II 

The gold-wreathed heaven far above, 

Doth watch o'er the town the long night through, 

Breathing a poem of infinite love 

To the awe-thrilled soul 

That beholds the whole 
Of the grandly beautiful, star-flecked blue. 

Ill 
O, city, slumber thy quiet sleep, 
By solitude's soothing hand caressed, 
While the guardian stars their vigil keep, 

Shining still and bright 

Through the tranquil night 
O'er a spirit of silence and peaceful rest. 



[44] 



The Wind 



O, mine are the powers to lull the bright flowers 

To rest in their cradles of grass ; 
When the last tints of day are fading away, 

They sweetly salute as I pass; 
Then they close their gay eyes, and the lovely stars 
rise, 

And the moon with her silvery light, 
And I, soft and calm with an airy balm 

Enchanting the quiet night. 
As I rustle along with a graceful song, 

Scarce whispering through the trees, 
More loudly I blow as I swell and grow 

Into a midnight breeze. 

II 

But the moon's vigil white she doth keep o'er the 
night, 

As its hours grow late and large, 
Till a cloudy sky is above on high, 

When I mount on its thunderous barge; 
I fill its sails with my warring gales, 

And we travel swift and far; 
Over valley and dale, do we swiftly sail, 

In our wonderful, mighty car, 
Till the morning light doth end the night, 

And welcomes the coming day, 
And I waken the flowers in their leafy bowers, 

When the sun sends forth his ray. 

[45] 



Address to Burns 
I 

Great poet, from the brave Scot's land — 
When I ascend the mountain grand, 
And am by gentle breezes fanned, 

I think of thee, 
When flowers sweet on every hand 

Give joy to me. 

II 

Thy poems are the flowers gay, 
And balmy breezes of the May, 
Whilst thou, like mountain doth hold sway 

Within my mind; 
For thou wrot'st many a beauteous lay 

Of Nature's kind. 

Ill 
Great songs were they that thou didst sing, 
Of dewy grasses and the Spring, 
And of the tinkling cow-bell's ring; 

Of Nature all; 
And of the joys the seasons bring, 

'Twas thy great call. 



[46] 



Have a Thought 



( Written for a Wedding Anniversary} 

I 
Have a thought for the days that are long gone by 

To the country of what has been, 
And a thought for the ones that unseen lie 
'Neath the mystic veil of the future pale, 

As the years roll out and in. 

II 
Have a thought for the host and the hostess here, 

Aunt Emily and Uncle Max, 
And a thought for the friends to our hearts so dear, 
That around us to-night in the joyful light 

Of pleasure their souls relax. 

Ill 
Have a thought for the happy two to-night, 

Who have passed their tenth wedded year, 
And the best wishes, kind and bright, 
That we impart with a loving heart 

That is faithful and sincere. 



[47] 



Thanksgiving Day 
I 

Soft without the snow is flying, 
Through my mind the thought is crying- 
"'Tis Thanksgiving Day." 

II 

On this cold day in November, 
I do thoughtfully remember 

'Tis Thanksgiving Day. 

Ill 

I am grateful to the Power, 
Which hath kept me to this hour — 
This Thanksgiving Day. 

IV 

O, but let us not forget them, 
Who have cares and ills to fret them 
This Thanksgiving Day; 

V 

Who have poverty and sadness, 
Ne'er a single ray of gladness, 
This Thanksgiving Day. 



[48] 



Letter to a Boy Friend 

Dear Milton, friend in La Fayette, 

Think not that I forget you yet; 

Since last I saw you, many things 

Have quickly flown on Time's swift wings, 

And therefore to you I'll relate 

The several facts that were my fate 

Since I have last left your abode, 

And to Chicago town I rode. 

Last summer, out of town I went 

To Stewart's farm, and was content 

With all their hens and little chicks, 

Young, fluffy things — of them were six — 

And even more I think there were, 

And many sheep, with their soft fur, 

Besides, they had a dozen cows, 

And little piglets and fat sows; 

Without the animals they had, 

Were many things that made one glad, 

For many woods there were around, 

And lovely flowers that I found. 

But, then at last, I had to go — 

One cannot stay fore'er you know — 

So I went near to Waukesha, 

Half with alas ! Half with hurrah ! 

For it with many a charm abounds, 

Lakes, flowers, to my ear sweet sounds, 

For I went fishing many times, 

Provided with my hooks and lines, 

And caught some pickerel, bass and perch, 

[49] 



And oft, for flowers I did search, 

But did not seek them very long, 

For when I was the woods among, 

And flowers and leaves and maples smiled, 

I plucked the pretty roses wild. 

At last the day, when I must part 

With Nature, brought into my heart 

Some thoughts of sorrow and of joy, 

For I was a reluctant boy; 

To leave the country made me sad, 

Again to go home I was glad; 

That I must leave was clear and plain, 

So back to my town went again, 

Then, at a hotel, I did stay, 

Till to a flat we moved, one day, 

Forty-nine hundred thirty-four 

Is just the number on the door. 

The avenue's name whereon I live, 

Directly to you I will give — 

Forrestville Avenue, you must know, 

If you would have your letters go 

To me; a few, I hope you'll send 

To Walter Bissinger, your friend, 

Who very heartily doth say, 

He wishes you a New Year gay. 



[50] 



A Review of "Ode to the 
West Wind" 

{Shelley) 

A WILD and vivid imagination, a poetic and 
-* ^ fervid love of nature, an exquisite use of 
language, are all combined to make this beautiful 
poem alive with the spirit which it breathes, tell- 
ing us of the "Wild West Wind," with such 
harmony, such grandeur of description, as to pre- 
sent to the reader a most wonderful picture of 
the "wild spirit, which art moving everywhere." 

Shelley is an artist; the pictures he portrays 
are no less beautiful in their wild scenery and 
harmonious coloring than those of the painter. 
His imagination overpowers him with its fervor, 
and he bursts forth in such magnificent descrip- 
tions and glorious images, depicted in such a 
splendor of language, that the reader is filled with 
glowing flames of poetic thought. 

He is shown in splendid tints, in the most 
descriptive language, "the impulse" of the west 
wind's strength, the "leaves dead, like ghosts 
from an enchanter fleeing, yellow and black and 
pale, and hectic red, pestilence-stricken multi- 
tudes." He is shown Boreas' fury on "the blue 
Mediterranean," and its effect on the poet's weird 
and wondrous imagination. 

[5i] 



No language can depict the beauty portrayed 
by Shelley in this 'exquisite lyric, for the poet 
enraptures the reader with a fire of the soul, 
throws over him a mantle of charm, and leaves 
him glowing in embers of thought, burning with 
picturesque imagery. 



[52] 



A Review of "Hymn Before Sunrise 
In the Vale of Chamouni" 

THE solemn grandeur of Mont Blanc, 
throned aloft in eternal majesty, the erect 
and stately pines which cluster at his base, and the 
green, beautiful vale, tinted here and there with 
delicate blossoms, have given Coleridge, through 
the sublimity of his own thought, the power to 
present to the world an exquisite description of 
the Vale of Chamouni. 

The dignity of the poet's thought and the 
delicacy of his imagination, well suit the eternal 
splendor of the " Sovran of the Vale." 

A vision of unparalleled beauty, an image of 
everlasting power, arises before us when the poet, 
in the rough-hewn language so well in keeping 
with the thought, tells of the " five wild torrents 
fiercely glad ' dashing' from dark and icy caverns 

down those precipitous, black, jagged 

rocks." With equal beauty, with equal embellish- 
ment and color of imagination, he describes the 
less mighty but more dainty "living flowers of 
loveliest blue, garlands at the feet" of the lofty 
Mont, whom he addresses in sublime language : 

" Rise like a cloud of incense from the earth ; 
Thou kingly spirit throned among the hills, 
Thou dread ambassador from earth to heaven, 
Great hierarch! tell thou the silent sky, 
And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun, 
Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God! " 

[53] 



"Break, Break, Break" 

(By TennysonS 

THIS beautiful poem by Tennyson was writ- 
ten in memory of a close friend, who had 
died. It is beautiful in its sadness and its lovely, 
expressive, harmonious language. 
In these, the beginning lines, 

" Break, break, break, 

On thy cold, gray stones, O Sea ! " 

one can almost see the great waves dashing 
against the bleak rocks, and it is the same with 
the rest of the poem. It is hard for the mind to 
resist the tide of this exquisite poem, now rising 
to happiness, now falling to a calm and beautiful 
sadness. 

We can feel a thrill of sorrow with Tennyson 
in some parts of it, and can share and appreciate 
in our mind the gaiety and happiness of the 
"fisherman's boy" and the "sailor lad." 

Tennyson well portrays his longing and grief 
for his absent friend, in contrast to the thought- 
less pleasure of the children. The greatest beauty 
in this lovely poem is its powerful feeling and 
thought. 



[54] 



A Review of "Some Time" 

(By Eugene Field) 

WORDS cannot tell of the sad loveliness of 
this marvellous poem, which expresses the 
ever beautiful sentiment of a mother's love; one 
must read it often to appreciate its lulling solilo- 
quy and exquisite language, which is grand in its 
very simplicity. 

The words are so well suited to the thought 
that its charm inspires and haunts the soul; what 
could be more expressive of the longing, of the 
pity, "hid in the heart of love," than this poetic 
sentiment : 

"And then I stooped and kissed your brow 
For Oh! I love you so!" 

These words of the meditating mother, unveil- 
ing the mist of years, which held her fortune and 
her child's, thinking of the time when she should 
be no more; would he remember her love — 
would he fulfill her ambition for him — these and 
the thousand other thoughts filling her heart and 
mind are beautifully described in this lyric by 
"the poet of childhood," Eugene Field. 



[55] 



A Review of "Lives of the Hunted" 

(By Ernest Thompson Setori) 

THIS book contains eight very interesting 
stories of animals, all of which I shall 
attempt briefly to describe. 

The first story, which is entitled "Krag, the 
Kootenay Ram," tells the story of Krag, a Rocky 
Mountain sheep, from the days of his lambhood 
to his death. The most important characteristic 
of this story is its magnificent portrayal of an 
animal as an animal, vigorous, robust, and glow- 
ing with energy. The author first tells of Krag 
as a lamb, then of his youth, and finally of the 
long hunt of Scotty Mac Dougal, who persist- 
ently hunted the ram for twelve long weeks, and 
then with a sudden reverse of his nature, repented 
because he could not give back the life he had 
taken. The greatest beauties of the story are its 
fine descriptions of scenery and its excellent por- 
trayal of animal character and beauty. 

The next story in the book," A Street Trouba- 
dour," is very quaintly and vividly told. It tells 
about an ordinary English sparrow who, having 
been tamed and caged with canaries when young, 
escaped and astonished his hearers by strains of 
canary music, mingled with sparrow chirruping. 
The story is very interesting because it shows 

[56] 



the peculiarities and characteristics of individual 
birds with the most careful delineation, yet 
enlivened by bits of mild and pleasant humor, 
as are most of the stories. The writer tells about 
the many and varied experiences and odd per- 
plexities of "Randy," the cock-sparrow, until 
the time, when after the death of his mate, he 
was hurt and caught by a girl, and at last re- 
turned to the barber-shop, where he spends his 
time in lively and vigorous song, to quote from 
the book, "like some monk who has tried the 
world, found it too hard for him, and has gladly 
returned to his cell, there to devote the rest of 
his days to purely spiritual pleasures." 

"Johnny was a queer little bear cub that lived 
with Grumpy, his mother, in Yellowstone Park." 
This is the way the author begins the next story, 
"Johnny Bear." It is about Johnny, a little, 
whining, restless bear-cub who lived with his 
mother and his friends in Yellowstone Park, in 
a state of partial tameness. The tale is full of 
pleasant, humorous little passages which give an 
odd, yet delightful tone to it, and tends to give 
it a less serious air than the other stories. The 
author tells first about how he obtained some 
interesting peeks into the home life of the vari- 
ous bears and then tells about Grumpy and 
Johnny alone, in the most novel and charming 
way, till the premature death of odd little 
Johnny, which is the only pathetic part of the tale. 

There are four rather short stories in the 
book, which I will pass over very briefly. 

[57] 



One of these, "The Mother Teal and Her 
Overland Route,", symbolizes mother-love in 
animals, and is very beautifully and daintily told. 

"Why the Chickadee Goes Crazy Once a 
Year," is a fanciful little tale, and differs from 
the others in being almost purely imaginary. 

"Chink, the Development of a Pup," is one 
of the stories that stands for an idea^-the beauti- 
ful fidelity of a dog to a man. Chink, who ordi- 
narily was only a frisky, lively little dog who 
adored his master, in time of necessity exhibited 
ideal staunchness and bravery. The story is very 
skillfully told, as are all the others. 

"The Kangaroo" is a dainty little tale, in 
which the author gracefully combines fancy and 
fact with very happy and pleasant effect. 

"Tito, the Story of the Coyote that Learned 
How/' is to be classed among the longer and 
more important stories, and in very interesting 
style tells the life of a coyote, and how, through 
one experience after another, he became ac- 
quainted with all the schemes and means of the 
cowboys to destroy his race — "the lean and 
hungry vagrants of the plains" — so that when 
he became the leader of a large band of his 
brethren he taught them all the lessons he had 
learned through sad experience. The tale is 
replete with significant little incidents that proba- 
bly give it its greatest charm. 

Although this is a book review, I should not 
consider myself to have completed my task did 
I not mention the illustrations. There are many 

[58] 



full page and marginal drawings which, with the 
delightful stories, have given me many minutes 
of profit and pleasure. 



[59] 



Spring 

FAIR Spring, of all seasons the gayest, the 
brightest, why are you beloved alike by prince 
and peasant, bird and beast; why do mortals 
never cease to praise you, Oh, loveliest child of 
all the year; and why are you adored from one 
end of this broad world to the other, eternal 
joy that since the sun has shed his ray upon the 
world, has greeted the heart of man; why of 
all precious nymphs are you forever idealized 
and loved by all mankind? 

And the Spring answered, "I am glad that I 
am loved, for I heartily strive to give joy to the 
universe; for after the winter, like a cruel con- 
queror, has captured and imprisoned the child- 
ren of summer, I open their icy prisons with 
my mighty sunbeams, the lovers and assistants 
of all Nature, and after they have melted their 
icicle bars they nourish the flowers and grass 
and trees to renewed life and vigor, and the 
breeze fans them to rest 'neath a sky of azure. 

"So I, therefore, am beloved and awaited by 
mortals. But I must leave you now, and bid the 
breeze to rock the flowers to sleep, and the pearl 
crescent and golden stars to watch o'er their 
dreams." 



[60] 



The Picture of the "Glass Blower" 

See ! See ! that strong hand, see that 

mighty arm, 
Proud in the realm of labor ! See that 

face, 
Intense with the anxious toil for the love 
Of children, wife and home. Before the 

flames 
In the dark furnace stands he, the 

glass-blower; 
And every glow of heat and tongue of 

flame 
Breathes of stern duty which impels 

him to 
His task of love, of conscience and of toil. 
O, brave, renowned Prometheus, 

great art thou ! 
Who brought from heaven fire that man might use 
Its fearful power to his benefit, 
And metamorphose nature into art 
By labor, mighty labor, true, sublime, 
For "Labor omnia vincit," O resound 
Thou motto glorious through the glass-blower's 
Heart and let him be elevated as he thinks. 



[61] 



r7 



Thoughts at a Wedding 

[Written in response to a request for a toast, at the wedding of an 
aunt. ] 

TX7E have now arrived at a green and dewy 
^* spot in the personal history of our fami- 
lies. We have reached a verdant woodland where 
our dear beloved ones are about us, and in this 
forest we see a joyful, blooming Rose beside her 
mate. May he prove a sturdy oak, extending 
over her, boughs of protection and love. May 
he keep from her, as far as he is powerful to do 
so, the storms and tempests of sorrow, and may 
he only allow the glorious sunlight of devotion 
to illuminate her countenance; and when mourn- 
ful breezes moan to them of sorrow, may he 
caress her with leaves of sympathy, and may she 
in turn requite him, and may they strive to live 
together in nuptial felicity and happiness each 
moment of their lives. 

And now I will close with the sanguine hope 
that the joyful Rose whom we have here to-night 
may blossom into a full-blown, ever fair and 
faithful flower, 'neath the devoted and loving tree 
of protection with whom she is to live, as long 
and felicitously as a gracious God may allow. 



[62] 



Patriotism 

[This composition won a Chicago Daily News medal in 1901.] 

"Breathes there a man with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said, 
4 This is my own my native land' ; 
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, 
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd 
From wandering on a foreign strand ? " 

IN every human bosom, there glows a grand 
and invincible fire that thrills the heart with 
love and devotion for one's native land. We 
take pride in our nation, and the embers of 
patriotism that fill our souls are kindled to 
a mighty flame, by the remembrance of those 
who have nobly served their country, and who 
inspire and stimulate us, with their national 
devotion. 

It is natural that we feel a deep gratitude to 
those patriots who have so benefited their native 
land and have so benefited us; it is natural that 
we wish to imitate their love and their benefac- 
tion to their country. But they have smoothed 
the pathway for us; we are prospering under 
the good government which they have so 
bravely, so wisely established. How, then, can 
we be patriotic? 

As Webster says, "Our proper business is 

[63] 



progress." We should improve, should make 
better our fatherland, and be public-spirited. 

A nation's greatness is not measured by the 
extent of its territory, the number of its inhabi- 
tants, or even by the power it holds. Its value 
is estimated upon the knowledge, the patriotism, 
and above all, the character of its citizens. As 
is the individual, so is the entire country, and 
only by cultivating our character, by caring for 
the arts and the works of peace, and by doing 
our best to promote the harmony and welfare 
of the nation, can we hold a claim to greatness. 
Therefore, in seeking to be patriotic, our main 
object should be to lead the best lives and to 
follow the best pursuits which providence may 
allow. 

It is not patriotism and loyalty to one's native 
land, to approve of its every act because it is 
done by one's fatherland. Among the greatest, 
the most heroic of patriots, we may class him 
who opposes his country in defense of what he 
believes to be the right; and in love of our 
nation, we should not be antagonistic to others. 
Indeed, we may much admire some foreign 
government, but never with the fervor with 
which we love our own. 

We should assist the world; we should be 
broad-minded and magnanimous, for though we 
are divided by difference of nation and of govern- 
ment, though we are separated by seas and 
mountains, we are connected by a link more 
powerful, more wonderful than all barriers. 

[64] 



The same God watches over us, the same sun 
sheds his light upon all the earth, and the same 
stars cast their mellow rays upon our slumber, 
but a powerful love of country thrills us with a 
fervor of patriotism. 



[65] 



Valedictory 

[Valedictory address delivered at the graduation day exercises, 
January 31st, 1902, at the Forrestville School, Chicago.] 

Nature 

TODAY we leave thy home, dear Forrest- 
ville ; we leave thy pleasant halls and rooms, 
and we part from the teachers whom we cherish 
as among our best friends. But we are always in 
the school of Nature, always being elevated by 
her pictures and her symphonies, to a higher 
understanding and a deeper love for God and 
man. She speaks to us in tranquil night in a 
thousand golden lessons, and the numberless 
beauties she scatters daily before us. The most 
minute as well as the greatest things, are lovely. 
The tiny snow crystal and the infinite space of 
the blue heavens bespeak majesty and power. 
What artificial creation of human hands and 
human minds has the vastness of the awful 
canyons of the West, or of the mighty waterfall 
that leaps and plunges in ecstacy of freedom? 
Is there anything created by man as dainty and 
delicate as the roses and columbines of the forest? 
No human structure aspires to the height and 
grandeur of the silvered mountain peak, symbol 
of eternity, but guarding the little hamlet at its 
foot, an atom beside the ocean, for 
[66] 



Nature shows to man in many ways 

How she combineth gentleness and might. 

Beside the mighty mountain peak she lays 
The peaceful river, and throughout the night 

The moon doth shed her soft and glowing rays 
Upon the grand, the awe-inspiring height. 

But our search need not be far for the natural 
glories of God, for here, even here in this dingy, 
grimy city, we behold a world of beauties. When 
you go home to-day, look at the great mantle of 
white that bespangles fence and housetop. Notice 
a single, individual flake, and you will enjoy a 
feast of beauty. Gaze at the infinite, ethereal 
canopy overhead and imbibe with your eyes its 
calm splendor. Behold the golden tints of the 
setting sun, that shed their radiance over the sky 
and upon the earth. And if you look down the 
Chicago River — even that much satirized stream 
which flows through this city — on some dark 
night, you will see a most impressive vista. The 
rows of flickering light have a mysterious fasci- 
nation, while the hulls and masts of the bulky 
freighters arise like dreary, dreamy phantoms of 
another world, to sentinel the slumbering town, 
and the puffing tug-boats resemble the reani- 
mated monsters of a previous age. 

We look upwards and rest our eyes in the 
deep blue. Serenity and calmness are our first 
emotions, and we instinctively feel an unuttera- 
ble gratitude toward our Creator. 

The blessings of nature are the commonest 

[67] 



things of life, and knowledge and intelligence 
make them doubly enjoyed and loved. 

Our first important steps toward these have 
been taken in a school of which we are proud to 
have been members, and whose teachers we may 
count among our best friends and benefactors. 

We, the class of 1902, sincerely thank and 
bid farewell to our kind and devoted teachers, 
whom we shall cherish as long as we live. 

So, leaving, we extend a most hearty wel- 
come, with all hopes of success, to the class that 
follows us. 



[68] 



Theseus 

[Play written for graduation day exercises, January 31, 1902, 
at the Forrestville School, Chicago, and performed by his class- 
mates.] 

Persons of the Play 

i^GEUS — King of Athens 

Medea — Second wife of JEgeus, and an Enchantress 

Theseus — Son ofMgeus and step-son of Medea 

Two Messengers 

Chorus of Advisers to the King 

Prelude 
Scene — The King's throne in his palace. 

Medea — From friends I hear that Theseus, the 
king's son, 
Has here arrived and, on his father's death, 
The throne he will assume. For my son's sake 
This shall not be. My son must be the king. 
What if Theseus, in lineage, holds the right ? 
I'll have him slain in such a way that I 
Shall not be blamed; then when iEgeus dies 
No one there'll be to oppose my royal son. 

Act I 

Scene — The same. 
{JEgeus, Chorus and Messengers) 

Chorus — O King, to-day and here are we assembled 
To give attention to affairs of state, 

[69] 



Therefore, our deepest thought and wisest counsel 
We render thee, for when the nation's deeds 
Are being considered, we should meditate 
Most carefully, ere we opinion give 
On matters that affect our whole loved country. 
But see ! Medea comes, thy loving queen ! 
[Enter Medea) 

Mgeus — Hail, my Medea, come thou, sit beside me, 
Thou hast of moment to impart to me, 
I see by thy unusual haste and zeal. 

Medea — I have, O my King, for I have discovered 
By magic processes and by communion 
With the immortal gods, that in this town 
A murderer lurks, who's jealous of thy life, 
Thy crown, thy kingdom and thy throne; who would 
Destroy thee; and I warn thee, my iEgeus, 
If thou dost slay him not, then will he thee. 

Mgeus — What sayest thou ! Who is this vile assassin 
That seeks my life, is thirsty for my blood? 

Medea — Merely a country youth,but one of strength. 
So I advise thee, do away with him 
Ere he can strike at thee. 

Chorus — For Athens' safety, 

And for thine own, do thou away with him. 

Mgeus — Thus will I do, and he shall know that 
death 
Awaits the base attempters of such deeds. 

Medea — I will prepare a potion of a deadly 
And certain poison in a cup of wine. 
Offer it to him as Bacchus' gracious gift, 
And he will drink of it. 

[70] 



JEgeus — I will, my queen, 

For thou dost counsel well. Go, messengers, 

{Exeunt Messengers) 
Go, find the guilty youth who boldly dares 
To attempt my life. Not for a single hour 
Should the vile traitor live and meanly plan 
His base designs, which (I have fixed it so) 
He never will accomplish. When hades gapes 
To swallow him, e'en will it be defiled, 
And he receive the vengeance of the gods, 
Which he does so deserve. 

{Exeunt JEgeus and Medea) 

Strophe 

A vile youth would destroy our noble king, 

But Nemesis doth ne'er fail to pursue 

The evil doer and to punish him ; 

And so we see that good Medea, through 

The intervention of the just and knowing gods, 

Hath saved our sovereign. History doth show 

That evil cannot long remain concealed; 

Though virtue's progress may seem hard and slow, 

Vice to the gods will ever be revealed. 

Antistrophe 

Fair Athens, by Athene's prowess blessed 
With peaceful life and kind prosperity, 
And by the ocean's goodly hand caressed, 
So that her sailors far upon the sea 
Do venture, and pay homage to the sovereign, 
The good iEgeus, who, with paternal care, 
O'er Attica's most lovely city reigns, 
Over her temples and her valleys fair, 
Be careful that thy safety e'er maintains. 

[71] 



Act II 

Scene— The same. 
{/Egeus, Medea and Chorus) 

y&geus — Bring here the man, that we may judge of 
him. 

(Enter Messengers with Theseus.) 
Where didst thou find the youth? 

Messengers — Upon the street, 

Gazing in admiration at the statues, 
The beauteous structures and the temples fair 
That do adorn our city. 

yEgeus — Lad, what brought thee here ? 
Theseus — I seek my father. 
JEgeus — Who is thy father? 

Medea — But stranger, thou art weary with thy 
journey, 
Wilt thou not taste our fine Athenian wine? 

{Giving him the wine.) 

Theseus — {Accepting and raising the cup to his lips.) 
With pleasure, queen; I thank your majesties. 

{About to drink.) 

&geus — But hold, O youth, where gottest thou 
those sandals? 
And that rare sword ? 

Theseus — According as my father had directed — 
From 'neath a weighty stone I lifted them, 
When I had strength sufficient. 



[72] 



Mgeus — O, my son ! 

Thou art my Theseus, and the golls forbid 
That thou shouldst die ! Forgive me, O my child. 

{Exit Medea.) 

Theseus — Aye, father, thy affectionate son; 
But what forgive thee for ? I do respect, 
Love and admire thee, my royal father. 

Mgeus — The wine the queen did offer thee was 
poison, 
Now she in guilt hath fled. Now I see through 
The fabrication of her wicked dealings. 
Though Wrong may seem to flourish, Virtue ever 
Will conquer vice, and in the end will reign 
Supreme. But we had best rejoice at this 
Deliverance. Tell to me, my dear son, 
About thy journey. 

Theseus — I shall, my father. 

Chorus — And we shall listen with most eager minds. 

Theseus — When with great effort, I the rock had 
thrust 
Aside, and had the sandals donned, the sword, 
Bright gleaming at my side, I much did long 
And wished to see thee and to journey here. 
With joyful heart, I to my guardians ran 
And told them of my fortune and desire. 
They did consent but did beseech me long 
To voyage on the ocean, as 'twas safer 
Than 'twas by land, for that, they said, by robbers 
And murderers was infested, but I pled 
With them that I might journey on the land, 
As 'tis befitting for a sovereign's son 
To travel where he pleases. They consented. 

[73] 



Chorus — A bold and daring spirit, shows the lad, 
As should a scion of Erectheus' house. 

Theseus — Then with light heart, I bade farewell to 
them, 
And cheerfully departed. But when I 
Arrived at Epidaurus, I beheld 
Huge, tall and ponderous, great Periphetes, 
Hephaestus' mighty son, armed with a club 
Of iron, with which, I had heard, he slew 
All travelers who there approached; I rushed 
Upon him from afar, my sword uplifted, 
Then with a sudden stroke, I wounded him; 
He, furious, attacked me, and we fought 
And struggled with each other till at last 
Another blow dispatched him and he fell. 

sEgeus — Well didst thou show thy valor, my dear 
son; 
Thou hast the spirit of a hero in thee; 
Continue in thy narrative, my son, 
'Tis welcome to my heart to hear of thy 
Bold bravery. 

Theseus — Then I did journey on 

'Neath a fair sky and without opposition, 
Till I, at length, arrived at Corinth, where 
The townsfolk warned me of a cruel thief, 
Sinnis, by name, who with device most heinous, 
Killed all his victims. With the metal club 
From Periphetes won, with one blow I 
Killed him and traveled on. Now my way led 
Through a deep forest dark with foliage. 
I heard a sudden rustle in the leaves, 
An awful roaring. Then before me bellowed 
And stamped with fervid rage, a monstrous boar, 

[74] 



Which, seeing my opportunity, I speared 
To death. 

j&geus — My noble son ! 

Chorus — O Theseus, thou art fit to be a ruler! 
Thou well hast proved thy capability and daring. 

Theseus — Megara I now approached: 

And as I issued from a thicket dense, 
High looming up before me I beheld 
A giant figure of Titanic strength, 
But with the wicked glamour of deceit 
In his eyes; and as I did venture on, 
I did behold before me a great cliff, 
A yawning chasm, where a fearful form, 
Down in its deepest and most deadly pit, 
A hideous dragon hissed, spat fire and lashed 
His scaly tail even to madness; when 
The giant that I spake to thee about, 
Scyron, did seize me by the heel, and would 
Have flung me o'er the canon e'en into 
The fiery reptile's jaws ! Then with a quick 
And sudden motion, I dealt him a blow; 
He fell from off the precipice and was 
By the great beast devoured at its base. 
With many more adventures, I did meet, 
Which I will later all relate to thee, 
For I am wearied and would fain have rest 
And good refreshment. 

Mgeus — O, my spirited 

And noble Theseus, brave in heart art thou ! 
And I do love thee with a father's pride, 
I do rejoice in thee. Stay now with me, 
Here 'neath the kind protection of mine eyes, 
My rightful heir and most beloved son. 

[75] 



Chorus — O, Charites and fair Athene, bless 
Our court, our city, and our goodly king; 
And, Zeus, inspire' our Prince to nobleness 
Of heart, of action, and in everything, 
Let him be leader of the valiant throng 
Against his country's foes and enemies, 
To uphold the right and to suppress the wrong, 
And emulate the mighty Heracles. 
Thy blessings shower on us, not thy curse, 
O thou who rulest all the universe! 

{Exeunt, with playing of march.) 



[76] 



The Spring at Eagle Rock* 

[This poem was the last one written by Walter, in November, 1903] 

A bubbling fountain from the rock doth leap, 
From bold faced cliff doth rise a dainty spring, 
Which ever to itself doth laugh and sing, 
Unmindful of the mass of stone so steep, 
Which, towering high above it, guard doth keep. 
From Horseshoe Island do the wavelets fling 
Themselves upon the shore; but hear the ring 
And tinkling ; 'tis as if around do peep 
Invisible sprites and spirits, airy forms 
Upon the brink of some pure fairy lake ; 
For in a hewn log basin it doth fall, 
A tiny, shaded pool, a liquid mirror, 
Where silver lights and shadows gleam and quake 
From overhanging pines and birches tall. 



*A well known Spring in Northern Wisconsin. 



APR 20 W4 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

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